


You Can't Get Arrested for Being Awesome

by jojothecr



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-22
Updated: 2011-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-20 15:39:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojothecr/pseuds/jojothecr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared pulls a prank on Jensen and (maybe) gets more than he expected...</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can't Get Arrested for Being Awesome

**MONDAY**

 _“Jareeeeed!!!_ ” Jared’s just browsing the kitchen drawers for a spoon when Jensen’s voice, Jensen’s very pissed off scream, resonates from the other end of the corridor. Sadie’s ears perk towards the sound and Harley comes rushing from the backyard, alarmed.

Jared leans against the kitchen counter with a bowl of muesli in his hand, keeping an innocent straight-faced expression as he waits. When Jensen’s tousled hair appears in the door, he sinks his teeth into his tongue to keep himself from laughing. Bites hard enough to taste blood.

Jensen’s eyes, usually half closed and unfocused, are open wide this time and flashing with anger. He’s completely dressed, except the one black sock he’s missing.

“You think this is funny?!” he inquires, gesturing wildly at the white T-shirt he’s wearing.

“Stop moving, I can’t read that,” Jared lectures as he narrows his eyes, trying to read the letters printed on the cotton clenched in Jensen’s fists.

He knows what the T-shirt reads, of course he does -- _Golfers play with little balls_ \-- but he has to play along.

“Yeah, I think it’s funny. Kinda strange if you ask me, but hey, whatever floats your boat.”

“I want my T-shirts back!” Jensen hisses threateningly.

“And where did you put them?” Jared asks confusedly, sounding oh, so innocent even to his own ears. Judging by Jensen’s murderous expression, only to his own ears though.

Jensen gives him his patented death glare and steps forward, moving dangerously closer. “You realize there’s just the two of us here?” he questions, elbowing Jared roughly out of his way towards the coffee machine.

“And the dogs,” Jared supplies, pointing at the two pairs of dark, uncomprehending eyes. “Don’t forget the dogs.”

“They don’t steal T-shirts,” Jensen growls, barely sparing Jared a look.  
He pours himself a cup of dark coffee, and at the sound of a car horn blowing outside the windows, pads out of the kitchen muttering, “And they’re so much funnier than you.”

He doesn’t talk to Jared, not a single word, for the rest of the day.

 **Tuesday**

Jared’s filming starts two hours later than Jensen’s, but that doesn’t mean he can’t hear him bitching all the way up to his room. Because angry Jensen is... angry. And loud. Jared must also admit that Jensen had never sounded more alive in the morning than he has for the last two days. And there’s more to come, because Jared has a plan. And the plan is working.

When he arrives on the set, he makes sure that Jensen’s busy, and then goes straight to Jensen’s trailer, because he knows the guy. He finds what he was looking for almost thirty minutes later. Jared’s new favorite _A & Fitch_ T-shirt is crushed in the closet underneath the pile of Jensen’s spare jeans and sweatshirts, and for a moment Jared’s thoughts kick in before his brain and he wishes he had the chance to see Jensen wearing his clothes. That image is kind of hot in all the wrong and right ways. His T-shirt is at least one size bigger than Jensen needs, and it proves how desperate Jensen was when he pulled it out of the laundry basket. Jared takes it back, along with all the rest of Jensen’s shirts.

He spends the ride home grinning at Jensen and the _I’m not shy, I just don’t like you_ written on his T-shirt.

Jensen still doesn’t talk to him.

 **WEDNESDAY**

Jensen’s done with his scenes one hour earlier than Jared and he spends it shopping.

He hides his new T-shirts well. But not well enough. He ends up eating his dinner in the same T-shirt he was hiding under Dean’s shirts for the whole day. Unsuccessfully. Everyone on the set already knows that Jensen is _Overworked and Underfucked_.

Jensen’s awfully quiet and grumpy, and Jared figures that T-shirt’s actually painfully right.

 **THURSDAY**

It’s noon and Jared can’t stop laughing. He’s never realized how many guys work on _Supernatural_ , or how at least one out of every four is gay, bi, or completely willing to be so for even one hour with Jensen.

Jensen’s not laughing. Jensen is irritated. He sits on the curb, away from the cast and crew, and far away from Jared, eating his lunch. _Trying_ to eat his lunch, at least. But every freaking minute there’s somebody who needs to talk to him all of a sudden, who’s offering a ride home, tickets for the next game, or just a piece of candy, conspiratorially looking down at the printing on Jensen’s T-shirt that obviously works much better than a date advertisement would _Single and Ready to Mingle_.

 **FRIDAY**

The fifth day is the day when Jensen gives up. He no longer steals Jared’s T-shirts or shirts or anything else. He doesn’t try to smuggle out Dean’s clothes, because for some reason they tend to disappear just as swiftly as Jensen’s own.

He doesn’t fight with the dress department when they insist that he can’t spend his free time wearing Dean’s shirts over his own, because what if he makes it dirty or damages it somewhere? They have to work on the clothing for their monsters; they don’t have time to patch up only Jensen’s ruined shirts. They were also convinced and well paid by Jared.

Jensen gets coffee for free though, without asking for it. Evidently--pretty naively if you ask Jared--thinking that there really is a human hiding underneath Jensen’s disguise after all, there are new and new cups of fresh coffee waiting for Jensen after every take.

Jensen doesn’t seem to mind, but he’s overdosed on caffeine and doesn’t fall asleep until four hours after midnight that day.

 **WEEKEND**

Deciding to take pity on the guy and give Jensen some time to relax, Jared returns two T-shirts he’s stolen. One of them is a horrid shade of pink, which even Jared doesn’t like, that he gave Jensen for his last birthday (along with a new camera that he does like, especially when it’s not pointed at him).

The other T-shirt is nice though, and clearly Jensen’s favorite, because it’s worn and washed out and Jensen doesn’t take it off, not even for a minute. He doesn’t go jogging, he doesn’t work out; Jared’s convinced that he showers in it. He definitely sleeps in it.

Jensen’s also less snarky and more talky, which is a nice change.

On Saturday, they eat dinner together, first time that week, and later watch some mindless action movie Jensen falls asleep to. Jared lets him sleep peacefully and does _not_ peel that T-shirt off him.

 **MONDAY**

Jensen’s face is gloomier than a cloudy sky. And it’s a warm, sunny morning.

Jared figures that the poor guy arrived at a mistaken conclusion that Jared’s pranking was over. It’s not. Not yet.

From the very early morning people step out of Jensen’s path and they try really hard not to do anything that could make him angry.

Their new guest stars eye him intently from afar, looking confused. Jared assumes they probably don’t understand why everyone keeps on saying how sweet and cute and friendly these two Texas guys are when Jensen’s T-shirt screams quite the opposite.

It obviously doesn’t matter that Jensen really is nice, even a bit more than he usually is, and offers smiles, coffees and advice. He nearly outdoes himself trying to make them feel better and it’s still pointless.

Jared overhears him explaining to one of the girls that he actually does like her, that she’s done a great job today and is also very cute. Just his co-star, and the worst friend he’s ever had, is a complete and certified idiot.

 **TUESDAY**

Jensen’s being hugged. A lot. He’s not a huggy, touchy person and he likes to keep a safe distance from the others, so with every hug he kind of freezes, startled. But he accepts it, offers smiles occasionally, even says thanks. He’s mostly hugged by people smaller than him, which is kind of funny and, unfortunately for Jensen, basically everyone.

Jared wraps his arms around Jensen before every take, and after, too. He enjoys it. Probably too much. He can’t really help it though; Jensen feels so good, so right this close. He’s muscular and tall and firm, and he smells really nice. And Jared’s always been a little pathetic about him.

He still regrets that the shop’s run out of the _Life’s short, kiss a midget_ T-shirts – it’d be so much funnier.

The only person Jensen runs away from is Cliff. Turns out that their bodyguard is strong, but not a fast runner. They make three laps around the SUV before Cliff gives up, breathless and evidently close to a heart attack.

Jared can’t take his eyes off Jensen who doesn’t stop laughing.

 **WEDNESDAY**

Everyone from the main cast to the last member of the crew keeps a suspicious distance from Jensen. They don’t come near to him if they don’t have to.

No one talks to him in between takes, not even the newest PA who’s been a little obsessed with Jensen since her first day. No one dares to step closer.

For the first time in the four years that Jared’s known him, Jensen actually seems to be disappointed, disenchanted with the complete lack of attention.

He doesn’t even scowl at Jared when he comes over to sit down with him and watch the dailies. They don’t do it often, but Jensen’s evidently bored out of his mind. So much so that he’s actually willing to watch himself on the screen while they wait for another call back to action.

The wardrobe girls hope they’ll talk their writers in using Jensen’s new T-shirt for Sam.

 **THURSDAY**

Jared returns from his jogging just in time to catch the postman leaving the driveway and receives a new pile of subscribed magazines and a small parcel for Jensen.

He leaves the package behind the door of Jensen’s bedroom, for once accepting his wish not to be awakened if it’s not really necessary--meaning only in the event of a life-or-death situation.

It’s the first one of their very rare days off and Jensen explained himself more than clearly the day before that if Jared wakes him up before ten, he’s going to murder him and send him back to Texas. One piece a week.

Jared knows that underneath the ostensibly innocent and friendly appearance of his co-star is a dangerous beast and a smouldering volcano well-nurtured by Jared’s last prank, and he doesn’t want to risk anything. He’s got no doubts that Jensen’s already plotting a nasty revenge.

It’s not even nine when Jensen stumbles into the kitchen, yawning loudly. “Mornin’.”

“Hey,” Jared replies from the oven, cracking another egg against the edge of the Teflon pan. “You want some scrambled eggs?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

Jensen opens the fridge, spends five minutes staring inside, then grabs an orange juice and kicks the door closed, causing the variously shaped magnets clinging to it to slide one, two more inches lower again.

“Thought you said you wouldn’t leave the bed before ten,” Jared reminds when Jensen steps beside him to grab a glass from the cabinet above.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Jensen mumbles around a mouthful of the tart-looking green apple he fished from the wicker basket on the kitchen table. “I already spent an hour staring up at the ceiling.”

“It was that interesting, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jensen chuckles bitterly as he leans against the kitchen unit, staring out the window. “You’ve no idea.”

Laughing, Jared glances at him briefly before turning his attention back to his almost-finished breakfast. Then he pauses and sweeps his eyes back to Jensen, and this time he truly _looks_.

Jensen looks good. Well, he always looks good, that’s kind of the problem Jared can’t get over, but there’s just something about him this morning.

His hair is still slightly damp from the shower and roughly combed back, which is new, and it makes him look different, but even sexier. And that just isn’t far. He’s wearing a pair of blue, very low-riding jeans that are ripped in all the right places, showing teasing slivers of pale skin and dark cotton beneath. There’s so many holes in the denim, they’re practically falling apart on Jensen. They’re long enough to cover Jensen’s feet so only the tips of his bare toes stay visible, and it’s _not_ cute.

Jared wonders if Jensen picked a too-small T-shirt on purpose, or if he knows Jensen’s measurements better than Jensen himself. The white tee Jensen’s wearing isn’t exactly small, but it’s tight, faithfully conforming to the ridges of Jensen’s ribs, chest and taut stomach, embracing his defined biceps. Jared’s mouth very understandably waters.

Jensen’s pretty. Which is like stating that the sky is blue. But really, he’s just _pretty_. And not only that, he’s also hot, and funny, and all around a simply awesome guy.

And Jared is pretty much screwed up. Because he sees all that. And more. All the obvious facts and tiny details that complement this amazing package of a co-star and a friend, and someone who’s just so typically Jensen that he’s in a category all by himself.  
And because he might have a tiny crush on Jensen. Which may not be all that tiny.

Jensen’s appearance is distracting, so it’s no wonder then that Jared does a double take when he notices that there’s actually text on the front of Jensen’s T-shirt.

 _Kiss me, I’m cute_ , it says, and Jared knows he didn’t buy anything along those lines, let alone that thing itself.

It’s a very unexpected turn of events, but if Jensen wants to play, Jared’s definitely game.

In one fast, graceful movement, Jared shifts from the oven to Jensen and rests his hands on the counter at each of Jensen’s sides, cornering him in the break of the kitchen unit.

Jensen jerks, startled, and drops the half-eaten apple, which swiftly rolls away, and the breath he was about to draw in turns into a quiet moan that makes all the hairs on Jared’s body stand up at once.

“ _Goddamnit_ ,” Jensen mutters, following the path the apple has taken with his eyes before making a move forward, only to realize that Jared’s blocking his way. He looks up at him, blinking in confusion, and his mouth falls open for a question he never manages to ask.

Jared catches Jensen’s gaze, holds it, and then glances down at Jensen’s T-shirt meaningfully, leading his eyes there. Jensen follows obediently, like he’s forgotten.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Jared whispers as he looks up again, voice deep and rough, his lips almost able to feel Jensen’s already.

Jensen swallows thickly and ducks his head, staring up at Jared with eyes that are wide and surprised, but undoubtedly a shade darker than a moment before.

Jensen looks half-anxious, half-panicked as Jared reaches out, touching, mapping the shape of the slowly fading bruise on his cheekbone. A hit meant for Dean that landed a little closer than it was supposed to.

Jared’s touch goes on, sliding over the sprinkle of freckles on the bridge of Jensen’s nose and lower, over the fullness of his mouth. Jensen’s breath is hot against the pads of Jared’s fingers, his lips moist, plump and sinfully tempting.

Jared has no idea where the strength to prolong his observing and self-torture comes from when he’s waited for so long. Maybe it’s because he _has_ waited for so long. So instead of just pressing his lips to Jensen’s and pushing his tongue urgently inside, he wills himself to take it slow. He slips his hand lower and circles Jensen’s throat gently, carefully, the tips of his fingers following the line of his jaw, his thumb tilting Jensen’s chin up.

Jensen’s palm comes to rest in the center of Jared’s chest and he moves forward, eyes focused on Jared’s mouth, aiming for contact.

Jared leans in, breathing on Jensen’s lips and watching them part in anticipation, then draws back a millisecond before they touch.

Jensen’s eyebrows knit in confusion, a zig-zag wrinkle etched in between, and his fingers gather a handful of Jared’s T-shirt, trying to pull him closer again.

Jared follows the request, but when his lips brush Jensen’s, just a ghost of a touch, he pulls away again.

When he repeats this action one more time, Jensen’s fingernails dig into his chest, not deep but enough to make him feel it, and he growls, frustrated. “Is teasing all you’ve got?”

“No,” Jared grins, running his thumbnail along the full line of Jensen’s lower lip. “I just kinda like you like this.”

“And how’s that?” Jensen asks as his fingers seize Jared’s wrist, holding tight. “Annoyed?”

“Waiting,” Jared replies huskily, leaning in again and licking his lips. “Wanting.” He moves closer still, his tongue flicking up and over Jensen’s lips with a barely there touch. “I’ve spent _months_ waiting for this moment... let me enjoy it a little.”

Jensen’s hold disappears and he moves to the side resolutely, endeavoring to escape Jared’s prison. “Blink and you’ll miss it,” he says, sounding more than just a little irritated.

Jared pushes him back against the counter though, more like shoves him, really, the whole length of his body following to pin him there, his hands hot and firm on Jensen’s bared hips. “Na-ah, tsk, tsk... C’mon.”

“You come on,” Jensen frowns accusingly. “I’m try--”

The rest of Jensen’s words and reproaches die on Jared’s mouth and on his tongue nudging Jensen’s lips apart, get lost in the heavy sigh torn from the back of Jensen’s throat.

It’s fire that greets Jared; wet, silky flames opening up for him, swallowing him, a sour taste of apple and a sweet flavor of orange juice. And beneath all that just Jensen.

The kiss starts slow, just tasting at first, unsure and hesitant, lazy and exploring, but it gradually escalates. Jensen’s hand slides into Jared’s hair, his fingers tangling in the dark locks and tugging gently, guiding Jared’s head to where he wants it as their tongues meet and slide over and against each other.

Jared doesn’t know what to do first, where to touch. He wants more and everything all at once, and he wants to stay just where they are, how they are, kissing and just holding Jensen close, breathing him in. But he can’t, he needs more.

His palms press against Jensen’s skin, fingers splaying out, slipping lower, beneath the waistband of his jeans and underwear, feeling the swelling of his firm ass, teasing. One hand heads higher, following the juts of Jensen’s spine up like a ladder, rucking up his T-shirt before moving down again, nails skidding across his back.

Jensen’s response is a groan and a whole body shudder, the nip of his teeth as they sink into Jared’s bottom lip just at the edge of painful.

Breaking the kiss, Jensen licks the mark he’s left, caressing the plump, bruised skin before pulling back and forcing his eyes open.

Jared watches him, his struggle to focus and regain his breathing, trying to achieve the same. He sighs heavily and rests his forehead against Jensen’s, looking down at him, feeling Jensen’s chest expanding hard against his.

“Crap,” Jensen complains sincerely, breathlessly, his hand slithering down to rest at the small of Jared’s back, probably for support, but still comfortable and warm.

“Yeah,” Jared echoes.

Leaning down, Jared glides his mouth down Jensen’s neck, his lips parted, leaving a wet trail behind. Jensen’s head falls back, baring his throat, giving in and offering, and his hand slips into the back pocket of Jared’s jeans, pressing against his butt and pushing their hips flush together. He’s moving against Jared, almost unnoticeably, with him, and Christ, Jared could come just from simple touching, listening to the small, desperate noises Jensen’s making.

“You taste so good,” he murmurs against Jensen’s collarbone. “Always knew you’d taste good.”

“Jared...”

“Want you,” Jared sighs, seizing Jensen’s hips, clutching tight enough to bruise, as he maneuvers him against the counter behind. “Want you so bad.”

It’s too much and not nearly enough, and he feels like he needs to crawl beneath Jensen’s skin to get close enough, deep enough, or else go insane.

“Yeah,” Jensen pants, sounding like he’s at the verge of tears, and he trembles in Jared’s arms. “Yeah.”

It’s easy to say, a bit more difficult to do, Jared thinks when he realizes he can’t even remember where they are, who they are, let alone where is the closest bedroom. He would swear he can feel his brain cells dying and he doesn’t even care.

Jensen pushes him off himself gently to catch his breath, and _God_ , he’s gorgeous. His hair’s wild and tousled, his cheeks are flushed, and his lips red and swollen. His eyes are dark as night, the green of his irises just a memory somewhere in Jared’s mind.

“You sure?” Jared asks, not sure he can really stop them, stop _himself_ , if Jensen says no, but needing to ask nevertheless. Because everything’s happening so fast all of a sudden it makes his head spin.

But then again, their foreplay has lasted for more than three years already. They’re actually falling pretty behind.

Jensen gives him a completely sober, ‘Are you insane?’ look, and takes Jared’s hand in his, guiding it between them to press it against his crotch.

“Man, I don’t know,” he says innocently. “What do _you_ think?”

He’s hard and hot, and when Jared curls his fingers, cupping him through the worn fabric of his jeans, Jensen almost chokes on a moan, and his hand fastens around Jared’s wrist, his nails damn near breaking the skin.

Jared’s chuckle is strained, rough, full of want that rushes through his blood like a Bugatti Veyron, pulsing in every cell of his body. “I think we should move this elsewhere.”

Jensen nods in agreement, then points somewhere towards the oven. “The-the eggs,” he whispers weakly, hoarsely.

It takes a moment before Jared’s lust-clouded brain absorbs this information, then another before he really gets it and leaps to the oven, pushing the pan off the heat.

The breakfast is completely burnt and nothing hints that it once used to be scrambled eggs, but Jensen’s _giggling_ and his T-shirt is still asking for kisses, and Jared thinks that the whole house could be reduced to ashes and he wouldn’t give a crap. Not now.

 **FRIDAY**

Jared wakes up with his feet buried under a pillow, which is somewhat unusual and confusing, and tangled in soft sheets that he would swear used to be navy blue and not black.

His head hanging off the edge of the bed, which is undoubtedly Jensen’s, Jared stares up at the yellow-painted ceiling, listening to the sound of running water behind the closed door of the bathroom.

He’s still wearing the T-shirt Jensen kindly lent him, after subtly suggesting that Jared might have slight problems trying to find certain pieces of his clothing.

Jensen’s revenge was absolute, and Jared’s closet is completely empty, save for one pair of orange, holey socks--that totally aren’t even his-- and two pairs of black boxers. Jared still has no idea where Jensen’s hiding place is, but it’s good and truly secret.

The T-shirt is sufficiently big, too large for Jensen, which would be suspicious enough, but there’s also printing on the front, saying, _My Boyfriend – Priceless_. Completed with a barcode.

Jared wanted to argue, to refuse to be subjected to what he’d done to Jensen for more than a week, with all the cheap jokes and stupid T-shirts, and he could have probably, except for the ‘boyfriend’ part that somehow took all the wind out of his sails.

Because, as girlie as it sounded, he wanted to give that damn word meaning. Wanted more than just sex, albeit the sex was incredible even if they were only finding their footing, or some random hook ups with his male co-star. Wanted Jensen, for real. Even if only behind the safe barriers of their house. For now.

The T-shirt could have been just another level of Jensen’s pranking, a simple way how to find out how far Jared was willing to go before he’d give up and call truce. Could have been. But the smile that met his eyes when he smoothed the T-shirt down his stomach was pure and serious. There was nothing funny in the way Jensen watched him, attempting to be unobtrusive, when he thought that Jared wasn’t looking. It was there, the little something Jared had been waiting to see for more than three years.

A few minutes later, Jensen walks out of the bathroom, finally, dressed in black, cotton track pants and a light brown T-shirt with more _goddamn_ text Jared can’t read from his position upside down. And isn’t it sweet how swiftly has Jensen taken over the relay?

Jared knows that Jensen would never admit it out loud, would be denying it even on his deathbed, but he enjoyed it nearly as much as Jared himself. He’s sure about that. And all the drama about it? Just a cover-up. Jensen’s an actor who started in a soap opera, after all. It was funny and original, and definitely the best prank Jared’s ever pulled. And it gained him much more than he’d been bargaining for.

“Hey,” Jensen says with a soft, slightly tired smile, drying his hair with a thick towel.

He’s awake, but he still looks adorably sleepy.

Jared rolls over and sits down at the edge of the bed, finally decoding the mysterious printing _Temporarily out of service_.

“Nice T-shirt,” he comments, laughing, because it’s kind of fitting.

It was a long night. And a long day. When Jared dragged Jensen out running the evening before, he was half sure Jensen would pass out. Or fall asleep leaning against the closest tree.

“Right?” Jensen grins back, dropping the towel over the back of his chair before moving towards the bed. “It was a gift. For free.”

“Oh,” Jared nods, impressed, then he frowns, “You think it’s supposed to suggest something?” he asks, resting his hands on Jensen’s waist and tugging him closer.

“Yeah. Absolutely.” Jensen nods seriously. “Looks like they know that you turn into a total caveman in the bed.”

“What?”

“Look at these,” Jensen says, swatting Jared’s hands away to lift the hem of his T-shirt.

Jared would have absolutely nothing against a little strip or just a flash of Jensen’s flat, pale stomach, but the pink, almost purple, finger-shaped bruises that cover Jensen’s hipbones make his knees feel a little weak. He’s really glad he’s sitting down.

“God,” he breathes out, startled, guilty, terrified of his own strength.

“I’m fairly sure that _God_ has nothing whatsoever to do with them, Jay.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry,” Jared whispers, touching the reddened spots carefully, following the marks of his own hands. “Do they hurt?”

“No,” Jensen smiles as he kneels down on the bed, straddling Jared’s thighs. “I only hope I won’t have any naked scenes in the next couple of days. Might be a bit difficult to cover them.”

“I hope you won’t have any naked scenes _period_ ,” Jared responds. “I don’t think I wanna share.” He moves his hands farther beneath the soft cotton of Jensen’s T-shirt and down over his pants, cupping Jensen’s butt and drawing him onto himself as he lies down on the bed. He can feel there’s only the thin fabric of the pants between his palms and the smooth, warm skin beneath and his pulse speeds up with freshly awakened want.

“So these are like your brands of ownership?” Jensen wonders, his lips curling up into a perfect ‘o’ when Jared squeezes a little harder, pulls him a little closer.

Jared shrugs in his _might be_ kind of way, and Jensen’s grin widens. He leans down and rests his hands beside Jared’s head, pressing his lips against Jared’s and nudging them open with just a brief hesitation.

For a short moment, Jared tastes nothing but toothpaste and water, and he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue in and over Jensen’s; determined to rediscover Jensen somewhere beneath the fluoride and sodium bicarbonate and who knows what else.

“Hey,” he starts then, flushed and completely out of breath as he rolls them over, his fingers inching under the fabric of Jensen’s T-shirt. “How long does ‘temporarily’ last, do you think?”

**Author's Note:**

> T-shirts:  
> [Monday](http://i740.photobucket.com/albums/xx41/jojospn/Fics/TShirts%20Testing/GolfersPlaywithLittleBalls.png)  
> [Tuesday](http://i740.photobucket.com/albums/xx41/jojospn/Fics/TShirts%20Testing/ImnotShyIjustDontLikeYou.jpg)  
> [Wednesday](http://i740.photobucket.com/albums/xx41/jojospn/Fics/TShirts%20Testing/OverworkedandUnderfucked.png)  
> [Thursday](http://i740.photobucket.com/albums/xx41/jojospn/Fics/TShirts%20Testing/SingleandReadytoMingle.jpg)  
> [Friday](http://i740.photobucket.com/albums/xx41/jojospn/Fics/TShirts%20Testing/InstantHumanAddCoffee.jpg)  
> [Monday II](http://i740.photobucket.com/albums/xx41/jojospn/Fics/TShirts%20Testing/FreakingPeoplePerson.jpg)  
> [Tuesday II](http://i740.photobucket.com/albums/xx41/jojospn/Fics/TShirts%20Testing/HugaMidget.jpg)  
> [Wednesday II](http://i740.photobucket.com/albums/xx41/jojospn/Fics/TShirts%20Testing/SilentbutDeadly.png)  
> [Thursday II](http://i740.photobucket.com/albums/xx41/jojospn/Fics/TShirts%20Testing/KissMeImCute.jpg)  
> [Friday II - Jared](http://i740.photobucket.com/albums/xx41/jojospn/Fics/TShirts%20Testing/MyBoyfriendPriceless.jpg)  
> [Friday II - Jenesn](http://i740.photobucket.com/albums/xx41/jojospn/Fics/TShirts%20Testing/TemporaryOutofService.jpg)
> 
> Previously posted here: http://jojothecr.livejournal.com/315047.html#cutid1


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